


Thunder

by Nestie



Series: Ashes to Ashes [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Gen, NoSex, OC, Rewrite, TWdeath, TWsillborn, TWviolence, nosmut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-27 03:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18730642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestie/pseuds/Nestie
Summary: It had been a long time since the death of Tony Stark’s sister as she was giving birth. Now he had the responsibility of a tiny human being. It was not easy, especially when you knew who was the father. But everything seemed fine for a while, until all hell broke loose...This is a rebuild/AU of the MCU for the Avengers and the characters of Loki and Thor. Tony had an adopted sister, Loki has a daughter and everything starts to fall apart very quickly… The fanfiction is set before the Age of Ultron movies.





	1. The Coldest Night

His eyes had seen so much since he started to stand on the Bifrost bridge, watching, listening and following orders. People likely considered obeying kings and queen a menial thing to do, not thinking, not doing anything outside of the required actions that went with the title of Gatekeeper. But nobody could understood the weight he bore upon his shoulders: having to remain mute in the face of horror and desperation, forever condemned to watch on the worst and the best without being able to react to it. Heimdall took his role seriously and he saw the sacrifice of his status as being part of his respected position. Truthfully, he did not believe anybody else but him was capable of doing it properly.

But the Protector was not a stone-hearted Asgardian, either. Even if his face remained still and undisturbed most of the time, he could also understand the way of life and feelings. He had, in the past, eluded some of his duties. He could justify it by knowing that these small transgressions had been made for the greater good, or at least, did not harm anybody.

People, though, sometimes did not quite measure the pain and sorrow that came with knowing. The biggest disease of all. Nothing could ever erase what you now knew, no matter how hard you tried. He heard Asgardians telling him how mad they were becoming by not knowing, but he knew that certainty was worse. It held a heavy determination empty of possibilities, nothing but definitive outcomes, leaving no place for hope. Today, he was witnessing an exception. With the worst, sometimes came the best. Draped in cloudy potential. The kind of news that carried the promise of better days, but also predicted more arduous times to come.

He stood a dozen feet away from the portal. He knew what was in it, he did not need to see it. And frankly, he did not want to see. Something that a lot of Asgardians did not understand. Heimdall was not peeking, gloating, snooping on other people’s lives, consumed by curiosity and the love of gossip. He observed other worlds by duty and carried this responsibility like an affliction.

In front of him, the frail silhouette of Loki stood still, his arms resting at his sides. One could have believed that he was just there, watching. But his tight fists betrayed his despair.

Loki’s jaw was locked solid, grinding his teeth. He could feel everything sliding off of his fingers, like water running out, not being able to grab anything. And yet, he thought that maybe if he did not move, something different would happen. She told him to go back to Asgard, that she was fine. And he accepted. He did not even try to convince her to let him stay. The obvious hostility of her brother was wearing him down. Tony Stark would never forgive him for attacking New York, and he could understand him, frankly. He did not know if he could have forgiven himself, or been able to live with himself. But Elisa had given him a chance somehow.

He remembered how she punched him and slapped him. He could still hear her voice, strong and fierce, reminding him that the amount of lives he had saved after returning to Earth could not outweigh the amount of lives he ended in the past. It seemed as if she hated him and loved him in equal proportion. As he hated himself sometimes. And today, he stood there, completely lost. _‘If I had gone back to Midgard, would I have been able to save her? Probably not…’_

She was there, lying on white sheets in an ugly building, under an ugly light. And he was at the other end of the worlds, in Asgard. Something deep in him was telling him to go there, to be with her, but he could not. He felt as if the pain would overwhelm him if he saw her more clearly and saw in her eyes that all life was gone. The pain was already too much, and he could feel his entire composure falling apart.

And then his anger returned… They would put his Elisa in the ground. That’s how the humans did it. They would put her in a dreadful box and put her in the ground, with the worms… His fists grew tighter, his sharp nails cutting through his flesh. They would abandon her to rot and be eaten by insects. His chest tightened as tears stung his eyes.

That’s when Heimdall spoke. Loki almost jumped back, having forgotten that he was here.

**“I have to show you something else.”**

The words did not mean anything for a second. His head was a bundle of screams and memories fighting, making him unable to voice out any clear words. **“What?”** he spewed sharply, attempting to hide the tremors at the back of his throat.

Heimdall came forward and calmly changed the view of the portal, putting the horrid vision of Elisa’s body away. In its place, he saw another ugly white room with another ugly light. Inside the room, what looked like rows of white little altars except that they were cots with babies sleeping or wriggling about. One of the beds had a label that read “Jora Stark”.

Now his heart sank and he felt sick. In a twisted way he would have wanted the babies to have all died with her. Everything or nothing. If he could not have Elisa then he did not want any part in this…and yet, despite himself, he felt a growing warmth and almost a sense of relief. He turned around and left without saying a word. After looking one last time at the child, Heimdall went to the main command to deactivate the portal.

* * *

 She was small with pale skin. Tubes came out of her nose and she almost seemed to be smiling. Tony felt Pepper’s presence next to him… Tony could almost hear cogs in her head grinding as she was thinking. That serious stare, looking down at the babies. He was trying really hard to be happy about this, but he couldn’t, and it ate him up. The exasperation was short-lived, quickly drowned in sorrow and confusion. Everything had gone so fast that he was left completely befuddled. The happy phone call he had received in the morning, Elisa telling him that she was in labor, hearing the mix of joy and fear in her voice, and his own expectation bubbling inside now seemed like an old memory.

The thought pierced its way into his head, whispering _“they are the daughters of Loki”,_ becoming louder and louder. He had never been pleased to see them together. They weren’t able to hide it from him for long, not with Elisa living in the Stark Tower for a while. At first he tried to break them up. He tried to convince Elisa with reason, Loki being an Asgardian and an evil creature. Then, he threatened the God directly… And he finally realised that his sister, who shared a lot of Tony’s own character, probably found the thought of pissing him off appealing. He resigned himself. Sometimes he thought that her mutant powers relating to fire were oddly appropriate given her temper.

The truth was, Tony never really bought the redemption story Loki and Thor were selling. Saving Asgard from the Dark Elves, then saving the Earth from a wave of Jotun attacks…the billionaire had a theory that Loki had been the one opening the way for these creatures in the first place, to have a shining moment. Everything about him reeked of lies and deceptions. But Elisa was happy…and then she became pregnant. That thought had made him sick for a while. Being related even remotely to the Asgardian tainted the happiness of being an uncle. Even knowing that she was expecting twins did not make up for the fact that they would be the fruit of one of the most twisted individual in this universe.

And then she died, along with one of her daughters. The thought was getting louder. _“They are the daughters of Loki…”_. Was it a coincidence? Did she die because of something that he did? Because of his nature? Because he was so wicked and rooted with deceit? Was it the mixed origins of the babies--mutants and gods? Or was it simple and desperately ironic fate? As an adopted child himself he knew that people were in charge of their own destiny, and yet, he also knew that it was hard to change. Pepper had spent an enormous amount of time trying to teach him basic decency and humanity and still, sometimes, it was difficult to hold to these principles.

What would he tell her? Would she ask? Could Pepper tell her? What if he could not? Kids were loud, annoying, a bit stupid and absurd. Would he be able to pull through if that baby was related to him? What if he could not look at her without thinking about his sister and the twin that they had lost? Would he even be able to like her one day?

 **“I hope she doesn’t get your personality.”** said Pepper, trying to hide the tremors in her voice. Tony turned his head, not sure of what to say. The redhead woman still had her eyes on the tiny baby on the other side of the window. **“I mean, if she is anything like you and Elisa, I’m thinking of taking an eighteen-year holiday.”** Her stern face broke into an odd smile as she looked at her partner.

Tony smiled a bit as well, his mind finding some rest in between the turmoils of toxic thoughts and anguish. **“Given everything you have done for Stark Industries, I’m sure you’d have enough days off and some more to spare after that,”** he said, trying to sound normal, whatever that really meant. But as he laid his eyes on the other side of the window, he let one of his thoughts slip through. **“What am I going to tell her?”** he asked.  He felt Pepper’s hand slide gently over his arm as she locked her arm into his.

**“We have a couple of years to think about it.”**

He knew it probably wouldn’t seem like a long time for someone like him, but that night, minutes felt like decades and he couldn’t even think of what he was going to do the next day.


	2. The Awakening

**“It’s going to take time…”**

The somber voice broke through the thick overgrown trees and roots. Three figures walked in a line: one tall and slim, another one more muscular and the last one, small and gaunt. The ground was swampy with mud and moss but somewhere down at their feet was a faint and ancient path swirling through the trees. They lost the track sometimes before finding it again, behind bushes and across dark puddles.

**“T… Time? But I don’t have time! You told me that you just needed the ore and that was it!”** said the small one in a nervous tone. He was fidgeting anxiously, jumping on occasion if he heard a noise too close to him. He had all the features of a Dwarf only thinner, as though he had been ill or gone hungry for a while. His cheeks were carved in, but kept some of the natural dwarven features. Stress had sliced wrinkles around his eyes and nose. 

Not getting any answer from the other two figures, he said louder **“You said that you had everything now!”**  

The bigger creature stopped. He had a strong body, covered in a leather suit. As he turned, the Dwarf caught a glimpse of his pale blue skin through the opening of his hood. The dwarf stopped and raised his hand to his face.

**“It will take the time it needs.”** said the tall silhouette. His voice was low and carried with it the sharp accent of the Jotuns, the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. He turned around and kept going, following the slim figure ahead. He could hear the small steps of the Dwarf behind him, having to run sometimes to catch up with the others as he was falling behind. They got deeper and deeper into the forest, treading upon long forgotten territories.

Alfheim was a vast world covered with nature. An unforgiving nature. Even the prosperous cities were invaded by roots and stubborn plants that seemed to have a will of their own. Most of the villages and cities stood near lakes and seas, connected to each other with wide well-known roads. Old paths branched off further into the land and disappeared into dark forests. 

Recorded history detailed the accounts of the ancient times. Wide and affluent empires stretched for miles and miles, covering almost all possible land. There were huge structures, held together by magic forces and spells. Unfortunately, wars and dark magic had destroyed the most powerful elven clans and their impressive constructions. Ruins were all that remained now. Elves feared them and would make detours to avoid walking near the abandoned structures. Who knows who lived there a long time ago… They may have cursed the place, or left magical residue that could be dangerous or deadly. As a result, elves usually preferred navigating on water to avoid any problem. The oldest of them all were often saying _“Whatever was standing here is not anymore for a good reason. Do not build on old carcasses”_.

But the three figures were searching specifically for one of these carcasses. As they progressed through the forest, feeling the weight of the tall trees above them, it grew colder. The sun rays only occasionally pierced through the leaves. They were now a distant feature of the surroundings, existing only by their faint reflection on the trunks. Wind brushed off leaves and the capes of the group. It carried the acid smell of long neglected and untamed vegetation.

**“There,”** said the slim figure. She stopped and let her hood fall on her shoulder, revealing an Elf with bright eyes and a faint smile. 

In front of them lay bits of carved stones, dispersed in the middle of a wide clearing. The trees around them seemed to not have dared to grow over the remains of what could have been a temple. Rows of columns, old and black, were sticking out of the ground like the ribs of an old creature. Most of them were not straight anymore, moved by the weight of time or the shifting soil. Some of the carved stones lay toppled, giving hints at old buildings that once stood outside of the columns. Inside them, a huge platform in the same black stone as the rest of the ruins, stood a feet or two from it. 

The bright sun from earlier now hid behind thick clouds. The coldness here felt unnatural. The Dwarf seemed reluctant to step directly into the clearing, instead staying near the trees as the two others walked through the old toppled columns. 

The dim noises from the animals had quieted down and the moss, which before had covered almost everything a few miles away, seemed to avoid the dark stones here. They shone like obsidian with silver symbols carved deeply into them. 

The Elf trailed her finger over a couple as she approached a central platform. 

**“Give me the blood and the ore,”** she said, extending her hand behind her as the Jotun pulled out a bag from under his cape. Inside the leather bag, a thin bottle of a blue liquid sat surrounded by shining white stones. Kneeling on the structure, she took out the stones and laid them in front of her before opening the bottle and setting it on the side. **“Now the sacrifice.”** The Jotun nodded and started to walk back towards the forest, and the Dwarf. 

The little creature felt somehow safer near the trees, as if he still had the option to flee if he felt like it. When he saw the Jotun walking towards him, he felt like his entire stomach contracting. **“Is this it? You think it’s going to work?”** the Dwarf asked, but the Jotun did not answer. He just kept walking towards him. **“Did you forget something? Do you need me? I do not know anything about magic…”**  His words were starting to tumble on each others and he could feel the pungent taste of fear at the back of his throat. He stepped back without even realising it as the Jotun moved within a couple of feet of him. **“W… What? What? What is it?”** he was now walking backwards in earnest, raising his hands. The Dwarf felt the urge to run, but he could not. He did not know the forest. He could not return to Svartalfheim. 

By now, the royal archives had probably figured out that someone had broke into the vault to steal extracts of white blood--the rarest ore of all. It ran inside the oldest part of the mountains and seemed to mimic a thin liquid running down veins. Some legends depicted it as the blood of the mountain. It could harvest energy and held magic spells in the form of jewellery--something the dwarven thief could have never laid hands on if it was not for the extremely expensive contract he had received. He had been able to gather very talented mages and criminals to steal the ore. They had been paid with gems and gold. And he was told that more awaited him once the ritual would be completed. 

The Jotun stopped and looked down at the Dwarf. He grabbed him with his powerful arms. The Dwarf tried to fight but the hand of the Jotun was strong and any bargaining attempt was just ignored by his assailant. He ended up just wailing, trying to free his arms. What could he do? He was only good at stealing and getting in and out of buildings without getting caught… There was nothing he could do against such a big creature. 

Once laid down at the center of the circle, he almost regained hope. But then, he felt the blade of a knife on his throat. **“Wait! I don’t-”** and it was finished. 

The blood ran down his collar and started to fill the trenches carved into the stone. The Elf and the Jotun stepped back. The Elf held the bottle in front of her and breathed deeply in. **“That’s it,”** she announced, and drank it. She swallowed the blue blood with disgust, threw the bottle and said, **“Put the ore in the right position.”** The blood was now filling in most of the lines swirling on the monument. The air was becoming heavy. The clouds were growing black. The wind was stronger. 

The large fingers let the last bits of white stone run into deep round carvings, at the North, South, East and West of the circle. **“Is it working? I cannot tell…”** said the Jotun, starting to grow impatient. He had been sent here on a mission and after everything they had done, failure was not an option. 

**“You don’t feel it, do you?”** asked the Elf, smiling more and more. She was now near the body of the Dwarf. **“It is coming. I’m telling you.”**  

As she was finishing her sentence, the Jotun started to feel a low vibration under his feet. It had been too faint before for him to notice, now it was getting more and more hectic, as if the ground was growing restless. The giant stepped back, leaving the stone structure, his eyes locked on the Elf as she closed her eyes. 

Her scream pierced through the quiet forest like a thunder. Her body seemed possessed by a cruel puppeteer. Bent one way and the other, her neck sticking out as her head far behind her shoulders. The vision of the de-articulated body was horrifying and the Jotun backed away even further, fearing that he might be next. 

The elements seemed to change in a couple of minutes. Heavy winds, faint rain, the distant rumble of thunder. They had indeed awakened something. And when the Elf fell flat on the stone, it looked like it was finished. The ice giant walked cautiously towards the round stone, unsure what to expect. He could see the lump body of the Elf, tainted with blood.

Then, she turned her head and looked at him. She smiled. **“Did Laufey send you?”** she asked, a different tone in her voice. Her smile was not as arrogant and excited as before. It was a peaceful smile.

**“Y… Yes… Who are you?”** said the Jotun, ready to run and abandon his mission and everything behind him. Deep inside, he felt incredibly uneasy. This magic was nothing like the magic of Jotunheim. He felt sick and dirty, like a layer of grimy oil was sticking to him. _Will I ever be able to forget that feeling?_ he thought for a second. The Elf was now sitting up, observing her hands and the surrounding area. 

**“Oh…”** she seemed surprised and disappointed. **“Everything is gone… And I am all alone… Where are my sisters?”** she asked, her eyes settling on the Jotun once again. He seemed uneasy. 

**“You… No… The Elf, she said it would take time for the others to wake up.”** He tried to remember what he was told. He understood just now, why she had bothered telling him all of that. She knew what would happen. She knew, something else would take her place… **“The stone!”** he seemed to remember. **“The elemental stones. If you wake up the stones, the others will wake up with them.”** That was it, the next part of the plan. 

**“Oh yes, the stones… They were stolen. We will find them.”** she said, as if to comfort the Jotun. She stood up and said **“Take me to Laufey, he is an old friend.”**  

The Jotun smiled. After years and years of labor, he would finally be able to bring good news. The Dísir were awakening.


	3. Hollow wave

**“What do you want me to tell her?”** uttered Tony as he was fiddling with his tablet. There was nothing really important or urgent that would prevent him from looking at Pepper directly, but he just wanted to avoid her accusatory stare as she was clearly annoyed.

**“I don’t know, try something in the lines of: where were you?”** she snapped, arms crossed. She was losing patience. It had been enough already to handle Tony and Jora after all these years, but it seemed that the seventeen-year-old young lady was having her adolescence crisis a bit late. It had been incredibly clear. She went from a discrete and joyful young person to a bleak and cheeky miniature Tony. She used to respond to her uncle’s jokes and puns with awkward smiles and witty comebacks, but since a few month now, she was answering back in hurtful ways. Tony, as well, either did not understand--or try to understand-- or was too blinded by his own pride to not start an endless argument with his niece. Stark Tower had become a battlefield where anything could trigger another fight. Pepper was growing tired. And now, Jora was not even coming back after school and did not care enough to tell them or lie when she would come back few hours later.

**“I… I will, I will I promise,”** he said, receiving a message on his tablet, indicating that S.H.I.E.L.D. was on its way to ask for his help. **“Oh, I am going to be busy very soon… If you could…”** he added quickly, gesturing his hands to tell Pepper to go.

She darted her eyes to him, her face tight with anger. She did not need to say anything as Tony knew that he would hear about it later. But later was fine. Like a kid, he would ignore it until it would be impossible to go around it. He knew by experience that it would be worse than if he had dealt with it in the first place, but right now, he was handling things as they came and he had no energy left to talk about Jora or her behaviour. If he was even honest, he felt uncomfortable, recognising his own erratic behaviour sometimes, from a long time ago. He was scared she would inherit the despicable traits of her father, and now she was getting his. What an ironic turn of events…

When the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s helicopter landed on one of the Stark’s Tower platforms, he wished for at least an apocalyptic crisis so that he could delay that conversation with Pepper for a few years, at least. But his expectation crashed as he saw two technicians caring a small box, followed by Maria Hill. **“What’s that?”** he asked, ready to roll his eyes. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agent handed Tony a file while talking and walking towards the tower. At first he put his hands behind his back, saying simply **“I don’t like being handed things…”** but he quickly remembered that inside that building was Pepper and an awkward conversation waiting for him… **“But I’ll make an exception today…”** he added with a smile as he grabbed the papers.

** “A stone. It surfaced in China in the fifties, in the possession of some art collector. It stayed in private collections until the eighties when it was carbon tested. Long story short, that thing is as old as Earth itself. After the test, we sent agents to go and get it.” **

**“Sounds like you’re a bit late…”** commented Tony as he was going through the old papers. **“Why now?”** he lifted his eyes to check the small box.

**“It…”** Maria stopped a second, looking for the right word. **“It activated in some way. The searchers at the time thought the stone might be alien. The type of ore was unknown and it did not seem to symbolise anything according to any civilisation on Earth. So S.H.I.E.L.D. just put it in one of its warehouse until last week, when we noticed it was emitting gamma rays. We don’t know when it started, but we think it might have been a couple of weeks at least.”**

**“A couple of weeks? ‘Noticed’? Do you have so many toys that you can’t even keep track of what you have and what is happening to them?”** asked Tony, clearly annoyed. How can they not know when something was emitting gamma rays? They did not have a Jarvis in the building to check that sort of things, but still, they seemed to be a careful organisation and yet, they sometimes acted like rookies.

**“The stone has been inactive for… probably thousands of years. It was stored in a division that was not monitored for any particular emission. Do you want to study it or not?”** she asked in a sharp tone. She was used to Tony’s character for a long time now, but that did not shield her from disliking his manners.

**“An ancient stone beaming dangerous rays that was forgotten by S.H.I.E.L.D.… sounds like my sort of expertise,”** he said as doors opened. **“Put it there.”** He gestured to the two technicians in the direction of a metal table at the back of the room. The back wall was covered with small famous cars made of Legos. **“Does this have anything to do with the last jotun incursions?”**

Agent Hill looked at the box wearily. At the back, she could see the Lego cars. She could never understand how such a genius could also harvest such a childish side with all the responsibilities he had. She admitted **“We don’t know. We don’t think so but it is true that the timing is oddly coincidental.”** And it was, in the end, the worst part of working for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Most of the time, they were well aware of how little they knew. The Earth seemed to attract all sorts of oddities and they were left with puzzles and collateral damage to take care of. One could not work for this organisation without being willing to know very little. Sometimes, Maria wished to forget some of the things she had seen or heard. Being aware of the threats weighing on Earth could break anybody to their core, but they had to keep going and keep trying, whatever the cost.

Tony opened the box and found a small black object. It consisted of a central part containing a blue shining stone, and five branches that developed into broken stone spikes. Small carvings were running all over the object. It looked ancient but also advanced in some way. The carvings were hinting at some delicate and precise craftsmanship. **“Can’t wait to see what’s inside you…”** he whispered, his eyes falling into the blue light…

***

Something was missing inside of her. Like a throbbing discomfort, there all the time, and digging inside her guts every time she took a breath. It seemed like she could not just live normally. She had to be careful. Breathing, eating, walking… nothing seemed natural and consciously doing everything at the same time was tiring. She did not have any patience for anything lately and often resolved to staying silent or lashing out the first chance she got to forget about the pain inside.

On the outside, she looked like a teenage girl. Long black hair, bangs, chubby baby-weight still lingering around her face and body that made her appear younger than she was. Sharp brown eyes. She did not look particularly stunning or special. Grey jeans, a blue sweater and a heavy coat were meant to fight the cold days of December, but she felt awkward. It was cold inside, but she felt too hot in her clothes and she could feel her hair sticking to her face.

On the inside, Jora was a mess. Without really feeling the shift, something had changed. Deep inside, she became unhappy and unsettled without being able to pin it on something. It was as if something was right there, close, but she could, just, not see it. Like a shadow, following her in the corner of her eyes, but everytime she tried to catch it, it fled away.

She was sitting on a park bench halfway between her school and Stark Tower. Her friends had decided to go to see a movie but she had declined. Being with other people was unbearable these days. Tony and Pepper probably thought that she was rude to them because they were the adults of the house and that she was, in some way, rebelling or something. The truth was, Jora couldn’t stand anybody, and herself least of all. On some occasions, when she ended up shouting at someone, usually Tony and his smug answers, she realised she was shouting at herself and not anybody else.

The wind swirling through the tall buildings started to pick up speed. Her hair lifted and buried her face as she tried to tuck them behind her ears and in her collar. She sighed loudly and stood up, going back to the tower. This morning, a blizzard alert had been announced on TV and the last thing she wanted was to be soaked in snow.

***

Night had fallen, unknown in the faint blizzard that was gaining more and more strength. Stark Tower had finally gone silent as well, each of its residents in bed, waiting to find New York under a thick layer of snow the next day.

Hailstones started crashing against the windows, thin and numerous, drowning the streets of the dark city in a chiming symphony. The storm grew bigger and faster, lowering visibility and conveniently hiding a quiet ship approaching the tower. On board, Jotuns and dark elves maintaining the snow spells to hide in plain sight as they were narrowing on what they had been looking for a long time, the Ice Stone.

***

Jora was unable to find a comfortable position in her bed. It occurred to her, in the middle of the night, that she just could not sleep and did not want to be lying down. She woke up and sat at her computer for a few minutes, scrolling down newsfeeds and checking YouTube without finding anything that interested her. Her brown eyes hovered on some Star Wars Lego sets on shelves, near her window. The colours faded in the darkness, losing some of their playful appeal.

The teenage girl felt out of place. She felt the urge to just go out and check the blizzard outside. She slipped out of her door, barefoot, wearing yellow pyjamas. The wide neat corridor stretched until the stairs, where the lab and the highest wide windows were. Behind her, the lower lounge was completely silent. As she walked forward silently, she felt something strange, like a relief or some kind of weight lifting up slightly from her shoulder. As she approached, she felt the need to get closer, more and more. It seemed like she was finally about to wake up from a nightmare or get out of the water, ready to take a breath.

But once near the doors of the lab, she felt uneasy again. Something was off but she was unable to tell what was wrong. It must be the blizzard giving that weird light and atmosphere, she thought to herself as she stepped into the lab. Then, an icy cold wind brushed off her hair. Did Tony leave a window opened? Why didn’t Jarvis close it? One of the glass doors was slightly opened, pushed by the wind and hailstones gathered at the slight opening. She approached to close it but stopped in the middle of the room. She heard something, very faint. As she turned around, she saw something, underneath a glass box on a desk a few feet away, a pulsating blue light. The second she had the shining blue object in her eyesight, it started moving, like a magnet, towards her until it stuck to the glass.

**“You…”** a cavernous voice raised from the back of the lab. Jora only had the time to notice that the silhouette was way bigger than a human before a sharp pain shot through her head. She saw the room swirling in front of her, and all went black.


End file.
